


Companions and Eventualities 2 -- Hurt

by Viola_Laterra



Series: Companions and Eventualities [2]
Category: Enderal (Video Game)
Genre: During Canon, Extended Scene, F/M, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Other, Resurrection, Spoilers for all three black stone quests, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:54:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24992626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viola_Laterra/pseuds/Viola_Laterra
Summary: In yet another impossible situation in the pursuit of a black stone, the Prophet faces an unbearable loss and unexpected help from incomprehensible forces -- and much more expected help from someone much more comprehensible.
Relationships: Calia Sakaresh & Prophet | Prophetess, Jespar Dal'Varek/Prophet | Prophetess
Series: Companions and Eventualities [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809244
Kudos: 7





	Companions and Eventualities 2 -- Hurt

I don't think of myself as hot-blooded, tending to rash action, that sort of thing. I pride myself on staying on an even keel, trying to hold my actions until I understand a situation. It's an absolutely indispensable skill these days in Vyn, and makes it possible for me to do what we have been trying to do, to save the world.

But the last week had just been too much. It had *started* with Rynéus' demise and getting that first black stone. The terrible things Calia and I had found out about her father and the truth of her inner demons... that had been even more difficult. I'd mostly kept my calm, even then, except when I was trapped on the other side of a gate and those mercenaries were doing terrible things to her... I felt a kind of frenzy come over me, desperately trying to get to her, and... while I know she was devastated for letting that terrible side of her take over, at least she was alive. I couldn't keep her alive, but at least she could keep herself alive. It remained to be seen as to how she was going to come to terms with what she now knew: that she was her father's Angel, a miracle and abomination who he hadn't lived to give account to, regarding why he'd done what he did. Blind and terrible love, I suppose, at best. More likely, a despair worked into madness by the influence of the High Ones. I did worry a bit about Calia, but I also knew she was surprisingly resilient. I had hope for her to find some way to move on, to function, even with what she now understood about herself.

Still. It was an entirely different matter when Adila killed Jespar right in front of me. It was all I could do, rage just under control, to try to remind myself that the black stone was controlling her, to try to ask her for it, though I knew from my experience so far that there was likely no way she would give it up. And of course she wouldn't. So I destroyed her. I let the fury, the impotence, the inability to stop all these terrible things from happening... all the situations in which I had to act but everyone was at fault and no one cared for anyone else... I let that all that despair and anger out at her. And then she was dead. The last Dal'Varek. I numbly took the stone from her, and as I turned back to face the truth I wasn't sure I could bear, as I just barely started to take in Jespar's burning body, that was when the Veiled Woman chose to make an entrance.

Well. She had killed Sirius, who had done nothing so terribly wrong. We'd maybe stolen some food from the crew, I suppose. But to kill us for that? Except she hadn't killed me.

The haze of anger was slowly fading, I suppose into a kind of dead feeling, as I worked to try to accept what had happened, but also tried to understand the unfathomable things the woman was telling me. I suppose I did understand the concept of the sea of eventualities being the way magic worked, but to the point where she could tell me of an alternative future where, had she not intervened, both Sirius and I would be dead? I still couldn't fathom who or what she was, but somehow it did not surprise me that she could do the impossible: revive Jespar.

The flames died down and I heard him moan in pain. I turned back to the woman, but she was gone. I wasn't sure if I wanted to thank her, or scream at her in confusion that she could do these seemingly impossible things, but it didn't matter. I was overwhelmed by a genuine feeling of gratitude as I carefully stepped close to Jespar, knelt at his side, and gently touched his arm.

He roused, confused. He didn't seem terribly injured -- just the small wounds we'd accumulated on our way to Adila; as if her attack had never happened. I gently checked for any additional injuries, as he managed to ask me what had happened.

What could I say to him? Still struggling with my feelings, including the anger at Adila, the accumulated despair from the last week, the utterly broken feeling when I thought he was gone... I could only barely get out, "She attacked you, and I... I just had to do something. I am so sorry." I could see him take that in, struggle to look to the side to see Adila's body slumped on the ground some distance away. "Why do I feel like shit?" he asked.

I couldn't figure out what to do, so I just told him what had happened, that he'd died, that the Veiled Woman had revived him. I kicked myself later for dumping this on him all at once. I decided it had to do with the overwhelm of it all, that I just wasn't thinking... 

But Jespar said that it was all too much. Struggled to his feet, holding his head, and then ran off. I'd never seen Jespar run away like that before. He'd retreat strategically from a fight, of course. But this was the flight of someone who wanted nothing to do with whatever it was he was fleeing. It was... instinctual.

I sat there for a little while longer, watching the flames consume the body of the man who had killed Jespar and Adila's family. Better, I thought numbly, for it to burn... less likely to be reanimated by the sickness of the Cycle. I tried not to gag at the smell of burning flesh.

Adila's body was another matter. I didn't know how Jespar would want to honor her, if at all, so I buried her with a cairn of stones at her head. If he wanted to do something different, we could always re-inter her somewhere else. If she didn't rise as a fleshless one in the meantime... but I was too tired to think about what to do about it. I cast a warding spell that would last a few days at least, and then left.

I couldn't bear to enter the Dancing Nomad; too many memories of relatively happy times with Jespar, talking about the world and life philosophies. So I went up to the Sun Temple. It was too late at night to bring the black stones to the Archmagister; I'd do that tomorrow morning. I just found my sleeping quarters and curled up and tried to sleep. Eventually I succeeded.

I gave Jespar a day, thinking that he'd need time to process all that had happened. But after I'd given the stones to the Order, and heard that there was yet more to be done before we could use the Beacon to defend ourselves from the High Ones, and then another day passed, and I hadn't heard anything about him... I decided I ought to go looking for him.

My search might have partly been out of fear that he'd decided to leave Enderal, despite the Nehrimese forces camped outside the gates. But I'd never seen him like that before, how he had been after the events with Adila. I was actually a little worried about him.

It turned out I was right to be worried. Maybe he wouldn't have done permanent damage to himself, but after I tracked him down in the Silver Cloud in the Undercity, I found that he wasn't just drunk but also partway into a batch of Glimmercap dust. I... I suppose I could have been disappointed or disgusted with his behavior -- I'd thought better of him -- but with the enormity of everything that had happened? I couldn't blame him for trying to run away from it all. Hell, I'd thought about it from time to time. Could I just sign off, let go of it all? Live in a dream world and let the world burn?

But I just found that I couldn't. I'd been so powerless so many other times in my life. And now I seemed to have the potential to actually make a difference, to save people, or at least put some to rest who were suffering, even if we couldn't save everyone.

The thing that hurt the most, though... it wasn't hearing Jespar's own account of himself as a selfish coward who had abandoned his companion Lysia to the whims of bandits, or Adila to her own despair and the influence of the black stone. That did hurt, because those truths were pretty harsh, especially when laid bare with the self-loathing so plain in his voice.

No, it was the comment that he would have left me to die when Coarek had taken us prisoner. Along with the slap in the face that I didn't have anything the whores in the next room didn't have. I tried to tell myself that it was the grief, despair, anger, alcohol, and glimmercap talking. That I knew he had some kind of complicated set of feelings about me, but clearly cared about me... clearly did care about making a difference in the world, now that we could actually do so, helping Arantheal.

But he'd always deflected my invitations. He'd always restated his motto of seeking pleasure and acting only for himself. Even if his actions showed otherwise, suddenly all I could hear were all those rejections.

So I went to bed, again back in my sleeping quarters at the Temple. Had another bad dream, this one much closer to memory than usual. It was an old memory I had forgotten... listening to my father beat my mother and calmly plan to drown my unborn sibling. Not pleasant. But at the same time, the quality of the dream felt different... I had the strange feeling that maybe I had finally come to terms with that childhood impotence. Because now I had a shot at stopping the High Ones. And if we stopped the Cycle, could the world return to a better state? Who knew, but otherwise it would certainly all happen again.

"Sa'Ira, wake up." I struggled out of sleep to see Calia standing a few feet away from my bed. She said softly, "You seemed to be having bad dreams."

I gave a short laugh and sat up, brushing my hair back. "Yes," I said. "How are you feeling?" I asked. I'd spoken with her yesterday; I'd found her training brutally hard down in the practice rooms. I thought maybe I'd gotten through to her, trying to get her to see herself as something other than a monster after what had happened at Castle Dal'Galar.

She shook her head gently, but said, "Better, actually. Thanks, for what you said." I nodded at her and smiled. Then she said, "Sa'Ira, I... I'm curious. What do you think of the mercenary? Dal'Varek?"

My smile faded. "What do you mean?" I had, at least, gotten a respite from thinking about him, during that fitful night of sleep. What he'd said still smarted this morning, but it was a bit better.

She sighed and said a little wistfully, "Well, I've just noticed how you... look, when you talk about him."

"Oh?" I asked a little guiltily. I knew what she meant. There were times, and I know she'd caught at least one of them, when I let my interest in Jespar show a little too openly. She laughed and said, "Yes."

I sighed and stood up, slinging on various items of equipment, putting on gloves and my Keeper hood. I sighed and looked at her and said, "I guess... I'm waiting to see where it goes."

Calia nodded, chuckled a little sadly, and said, "Sa'Ira... I envy you, being able to pursue these things. And, also..." she hesitated, but then went on, "Well, as your friend, I... I just hope you don't get hurt."

I reached out and laid a hand on her arm. "Thanks, Calia. That means a lot to me." She smiled, a spontaneous, genuine smile that seemed to come from a place deeper than her hurt about what had happened with her father or what she'd done to the mercenaries. It was a deep relief to see, I realized. That maybe some of the people I cared about, even when terrible things happened, could recover. And maybe our friendship could make that difference. Maybe there was room for something good in this disaster of a world. And... maybe it meant that Jespar and I could... well, at least get back to working together gracefully. Who knew what else was reasonable to expect, after last night.

Calia said, "Well, the Archmagister is waiting for us in the Chronicum."

"Let's not keep him waiting any longer, then," I replied. I was eager for something to get my mind off all the personal events and back to trying to rescue the world. She nodded and led the way.

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a side note, I wrote this piece before finishing the game. I added the reference to living in a dream world, in honor of the dreamflower ending, but all that I wrote about the Prophet being compelled to do something to help people was before I'd seen the reveal about being Fleshless.


End file.
